


God's Gonna Cut 'Em Down

by lookingforalma (RamonaFlowers7)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Female Jack, Immortal Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamonaFlowers7/pseuds/lookingforalma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"surely, you didn't think you were the only ones? the only ones to escape death and befriend the devil? kings and queens must fall, as all of you know. kings and queens have always fallen."</p>
<p>the fake AH crew discovers that they are not the only criminals out there to cheat death. but they are definitely going to wish that they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Double Tap

_**{then}** _

 

“Geoff?”

 

Geoff does not have nightmares. Geoff has slept soundly for the past two hundred years, ever since the first time a bullet went between his 4th and 5th ribs.

But the shaky voice, asking his name - this, he knows, will haunt him for a while.

 

“Geoff!” More panicked now, almost cracking but not quite. “Where’s our backup?”

He turned to face her, the shaking girl with the black bandanna, a hand glued to her side, and an unsteady grip on a Glock.

Understanding dawns on her face, and she steps back. “They were never coming,” she whispers. Her face twists into a snarl. “You… You _fuck_ ,” she spits. “Geoff, don’t do this, you need me, you need _us_ -”

“No.”

His shot goes through her right thigh, and she lets out a scream that turns into a self-muffled grunt but to her credit, she doesn’t fall.

“You, your kind? We _don’t_ need you. You’re going to fight and fuck each other to death.”

“Gina?” another one of the gang brats screams from inside the warehouse. “Gina!! Inbound!!”

She stares at him, her eyes searing all the way into the back of his skull. “I hope you burn,” she hisses. “I hope you fucking _roast_.”

She turns and shoves back through the swinging doors, onto the main warehouse floor.

 

Geoff doesn’t bother with watching her go - he’s already out the side exit. He pulls himself over the side fence, swings open the doors of a shipping container and greets Jack, waiting inside on a motorcycle.

“Finally. I’ve read this twice already.” She holds up a gossip magazine with a half-hearted smirk - he takes it and tosses it aside as they drive away from the chaos.

“It went well, then,” she states, five minutes later, when they’re already on the freeway speeding away from Los Reyes and back towards Los Santos.

“Shh. Turn on the scanner.”

A burst of static and then “...we need a bus, we need a bus at the warehouse district, two officer casualties, we have multiple suspects down, I repeat, multiple suspects down at twenty-two Lincoln-”

“There’s your answer. It definitely fucking went well.” Geoff switches off the scanner. “Creighton gets his, we get ours, they’ll all accuse each other and keep up enough infighting to not be a credible threat.”

“You killed kids, Geoff.”

“They stopped being kids when they decided to pick up a gun,” he snaps, mostly to push down the bubble of guilt growing uncomfortably close to his heart.

Jack doesn’t respond and the rest of the trip is spent in silence.

 

_**{now}** _

Gina stands on the hill, overlooking Los Santos, an unlit cigarette dangling between her fingertips. The spot just to the left of her heart aches like a bitch, and she digs a knuckle into her chest, trying to rub it away.

“He’s down there?” Mel asks, raising a lighter.

“He’s down there,” she confirms, and raises her cigarette with an unspoken thanks. The flame illuminates the scar across her cheek, and she smiles, blowing smoke out of her nostrils. “They’re all down there.”

Mel laughs and shouts to the others parked in the shadows - engines rev and roar in approval, and Gina just smiles.

“Your shit’s mine now, Ramsey.” Gina lifts up her hand, makes a gun, and makes “pew” noises under her breath as she fires at the skyscrapers in the distance. “All mine.”


	2. Dead Girls Tell No Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "surely, you didn't think you were the only ones? the only ones to escape death and befriend the devil? kings and queens must fall, as all of you know. kings and queens have always fallen."
> 
> gina and her crew make themselves at home.

_**{then}** _

The first time she came back to life, she thought she was in the throes of a catastrophic panic attack. Or a heart attack. Maybe even a stroke.

When she woke up, encased in a black body bag, she thought it was one of those dreams Bobby had told her about, something he had read about on the Internet. The kind of dreams where you wake up with darkness all around and a demon sitting on your chest and a numbness in your limbs. That kind of nightmare shit.

Mel was the first one to find her, of course. As soon as Gina began squirming and gasping for air in the black plastic, Mel’s hands were there, scrabbling on the zipper, ready to let her out.

"You too!" she exclaimed, tears rolling down her cheeks as Gina squinted in the fluorescent lights.

Gina sat up, still in her bloody and torn white t-shirt. “Mel,” she started hesitantly, digging her knuckle into the sore spot right over her heart, “they shot us.”

Mel nodded. “Multiple times, boss.”

“In the chest.”

“And the head, boss.”

"I..." She took a deep breath. "I saw you die, Mel."

"I felt myself die, boss."

They stared at each other for a moment. "We... died," Gina repeated, slowly. "They killed us. A lot of us."

"And now we're not dead. You, me, and... a few others."

Gina took the moment to look around - the room was crowded with other body bags that had started to rumple and crinkle and squirm about on the linoleum floor. She could see ID tags - members of the West Ruby Gang, Eagle Trading Co., and the Yellow Bulldogs were all there. And they would definitely all be angry as hell. Unless...

"Why would they put us here? Did they know what was going to happen?" Mel asked.

The grin spread slowly over Gina’s face. “Oh, boy.” She crawled out of the body beg, her feet landing firmly on the linoleum floor.

“Oh, Mel. Forget about that. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

 

~

 

Sergeant Cooper does not believe in reincarnation.

Rather, Sergeant Cooper believes in Photoshop, in image manipulation, in clever video editing - because those are the only explanations for the dead woman walking across the screen.

Her hair is different. The last time he saw her, sprawled across the cold grey concrete in a puddle of her own blood, blank eyes staring at the ceiling, the curls were dyed a brilliant red color - one that his mother would gently refer to as “a color not found in nature” with her rich Southern drawl. Now, the curls are a cloud of pale blue, but it’s still definitely her.

He quickly pulls up her file and there it is - dead, 2 months ago, of a sniper shot to the chest during a police raid on a warehouse rumored to be the main base of WRG operations.

He had heard whispers of immortal criminals from the LSPD - a particular crew that wreaked more and more havoc on the city as the LSPD attempted to get more and more aggressive. But he figured they were just stories, excuses made up to explain why some of the world’s most dangerous criminals were slipping the noose again and again. But it was right here, in Los Reyes, staring him in the face.

He was there when they had given the go-ahead to the sniper, after all. A clean shot through the heart once it was clear that the gangs would not surrender - once it was clear that the hysterical young woman in charge of their spontaneous collaborative effort would not give up and the firefight in the warehouse would not cease.

The Trifecta Massacre, the media called it. Three gangs almost entirely wiped out in one fell swoop thanks to an aggressive assault by the LRPD and some… contributions from an outside source.

_(The good Sergeant, like the others in the department, is not concerned with questions of morality - when an order from a higher up says to get the job done, no matter what it takes, then damnit, the job will get **done.** So what if some of the members killed were barely in their teens? It's not his problem that they chose to open fire.)_

And in the end, they had all gotten a bonus out of it. The streets were arguably safer. Arguably, now that another crew had tightened their grip on the streets. But at least they were cleaner, less violent - more considerate, you could argue (Sergeant Cooper certainly did).

But now this? A dead girl walking?

He gulps, glances around the room. In the still from the security footage, she is smiling- no,  _smirking_ , right at the camera. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was strolling about Inca Boulevard with her hair piled high and her bandanna tied tight for a reason.

_Guess who's back, back again? Guess who's back? Tell your friends!_

 

_**{now}** _

 

Geoff didn't care about what Austin and his creepy fucking goons did in Los Reyes once the gang brats were out of the way.

 _It's your city to trash_ , he figured.  _Go nuts._

Jack's face is grim as she tosses the morning paper across the kitchen counter.

"Suspected Mafia Associate Found In River," she recites. Her neon pink nail points to the headline. "Austin Creighton, 38, a suspected associate of a criminal organization, the Creighton Heights Crew, was found in a body bag in the Palisades River Sunday morning after he was reported missing seven months ago. Authorities believe that Mr. Creighton's body was weighed down, but police are unable to determine why he surfaced at this time."

"Anyone with tips is encouraged to call 1-800-SUCK-MY-NUTS," Geoff finishes for her. Michael snorts from where he's sprawled on the couch.

"The man who helped get this crew their first huge boost of capital is dead and you're not concerned?"

"The man who helped get this crew their first huge boost of capital was a moron. In-fighting in his crew. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."

"The deal was three years ago, Geoff," Jack frowns. "Seems strange for the whole thing to suddenly implode."

He shrugged. "Stranger things have happened. Listen, it's not our problem." He refilled his whiskey glass as a woman shrieked on the sidewalk down below. "And judging by the screams, Ryan and Gavin are back."

"Oh, actually?" Michael peered out the plate glass window. "Ryan just shot Gavin in the face."

"Intel went well, then," Jack said with a dry smile.

Geoff just shook his head.

 

~

 

The New Ruby Order settles comfortably into their new home. Or, rather, homes.

There is the boxy modernist nightmare in Vinewood Hills that becomes the main base for the "auxillary" members - the ones who prowl around Los Santos at night, who become casual with the local small-time gangs, who break car windows and pickpocket a person or two. Their job, Gina explains, is to know the streets so well they become part of them.

There is the shabby apartment building right by Del Perro Pier. Two units are rented out and packed to the brim with even more auxillary members who work in clothing stores and banks and gas stations. They live in Los Santos - complain about parking, complain about the buses and the subway, complain about work and the shitty minimum wage.

And then every Saturday morning, they all drove up the coast to the bungalows rented in Paleto Bay, where Gina and Mel and Bobby and Franco and a few others - the "executive board," they joked - made their home base. The auxillary members reported on the city, on its criminals and citizens, on its vulnerabilities and tough spots.

But mostly, they gathered whispers about the Fake AH Crew.

 

_Gavin robbed a gas station the other week and when the cashier pulled a shotgun, he took a blast to the chest and didn't even flinch._

_The couple, Michael and Lindsay? They burn people - just for **fun**._

_The one with a mask drove past the tattoo shop and I got fucking chills, dude. Chills._

 

Gina rubbed her fingers absent-mindedly over the new diamond tattoo on the back of her left calf as they all reported on what they had heard and seen. Then, suddenly, she grabbed a switchblade from under the cushion and stabbed it deep into Bobby's ribs.

He gasped and sputtered for air as she stormed out onto the front porch and lit a cigarette with trembling hands.

The house stayed deathly quiet, until Bobby began laughing hysterically and the others joined in with him.

 

"That's twelve on Bobby, boss," Mel said softly behind her.

"How many on Franco?"

"Eight."

"And on you?"

"Six and a half."

She exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Fair enough."

"You really shouldn't do that in front of them. They aren't used to it-"

"You know what I'm not used to?" Gina threw her cigarette into the well of dirt that had become the porch's makeshift ashtray. "Boredom. I'm so fucking bored. I get it, you get it, we all get it, they're  _scary._ I need something fucking useful. I need to know what they're planning. I need to know the equipment they have. I need to know their connections. I need-" She groaned.

"I need to fucking kill someone and not have them pop back up a few seconds later."

"Then let's go do that."

She turned as Bobby tossed the blood-covered blade into her hands.

"Let's go hunting," he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg... there are people out there reading this... I love every single one of you <3
> 
> I'm back in school! but I will aggressively try to stick to "once a week postings" I think. I'm hammering out the last bit of the outline so this should be an Achievable Goal.


	3. The Girl's a Straight-Up Hustler

Ray’s retirement announcement, to put it simply, did not go smoothly.

Faced with the collective shock and outrage of the entire gathered Fake AH Crew, he kept softening the blow, from a permanent retirement, to a retirement until further notice, to a trip out of Los Santos, to a trip within Los Santos, to a simple two week break that was going to happen anyway as they planned the next big heist.

 

“You wanna spend the rest of forever doing nothing? Fine.” Geoff had blown a cloud of cigar smoke into the breeze on the balcony. “But that’s not who you are, Ray. You know it, I know it, we all know it. Maybe I know it better than you do, but this, right here? It’s the best you can do.”

 

He left his rifle at home, peeled a few bills off of his emergency stack, and headed for a bar on the east side of town - he knew that the others would show up at his usual haunts in an attempt to persuade him, to talk him out of what was really happening, to figure out the root of things.

The root of things, of course, was a girl. A mortal girl, which made things rough, naturally, but a girl.

There were other pressing issues, of course - he was getting tired, getting bored, wanted to do something else other than perch on a rooftop for hours at a time, waiting for the rest of the guys to get their shit together so they could get on with the damn thing already. And the shootout - he thinks the shootout was the last straw, the turning point, where he died next to Ryan in the street, surrounded by cops, and came back to his senses shaking on his couch, with Tina's arms around him, and bringing him back to reality.

So here he sat - a new bar, barely halfway through one beer, casually taking hits off a vape slipped up his sleeve. No one looked, no one minded.

 

“Care to share?”

And she smiled, and his stomach dropped to the floor.

~

**Fidget.**

_You’re fine, she’s fine, everything’s fine, you’re just over-_

**Fidget. Twitch. Fidget.**

_Mel is good at this, she is good at her job, and you need something-_

**Fidget. Fidget. Twitch. Fidget. Twitch. Scratch.**

_Circles, going in circles again, you need to-_

**Fidgetfidgetfidgetfidgetfidget**

“FUCK!”

In one swift motion, Gina sat up, withdrew the pistol from under pillow, and fired the entire clip into the ceiling. She blinked as dust drifted down from the ceiling, all over her face and the plain white comforter she had been sprawled on. The conversation in the living room hushed, then abruptly restarted, louder than before, as if to pretend nothing happened.

Her mind had been weaving endless circles all day - wondering about Mel and her assignment, wondering about the auxiliary member who had managed to get a shotgun blast to the chest during a robbery and was now being smuggled out of the city morgue, wondering about how things were back in Los Reyes, wondering about her mother, her father, her Alex-

Wondering about Alex.

That wasn’t his real name - he had whispered that on her shoulder once, right into her skin, and she spent the entire night reciting it over and over like a chant, relishing the new taste of the truth. But Alex was better, it was plainer, it was less noticeable - it wasn’t a name you remembered if he happened to pass through.

He was a genius, and if things had been better, maybe he would’ve been one of those kids who graduated college at 16 with two degrees, but in this life he was everyone’s favorite mechanic, the boy wonder who could simply place his hand on the hood of your car and tell you exactly the issue. The guy who rebuilt things better than before, who modded guns and bombs and computers and phones. He never got too involved - tried his best to stay strictly neutral, wouldn’t take a job that was too political, and never took part in crew warfare. It was all gang-related jobs only.

Maybe, in another life, he could’ve been as lucky as Gina, but in this life, Gina took a shot to the chest in a warehouse and woke up the next morning, while Alex took a shot to the head sitting on his fire escape and never saw the sunrise again.

Gina rolled a cigarette pack up in her t-shirt sleeve, pushed up her window and climbed the pipe to the roof, where she stood and smoked the whole pack, throwing the butts into the sand, staring at the moon reflected on the ocean waves. “Oh, Alex,” she whispered, to no one in particular. “Bobby!”

Like a ghost, he appeared. “Boss?”

“Have you heard from Mel?”

“Not yet, but members in the area say things are moving along.”

“Good.” She threw the last cigarette into the sand. “Bobby, I want that list of orange-scale heist targets.”

She turned and smiled at him, the last few tears drying on her cheeks.

“I wanna rob.”

~

“I just have some questions, Ray.”

Her voice was slow and soothing, rolling off her tongue into the air, thick with smoke. Ray’s head spun. _I don’t know where I am_ , he realized, his heart skipping a beat. _I don’t know how-_

“Ray?”

_Her name_ , he thought to himself, _her name. **What was her name-**_

“Look at me, Ray.”

Brilliant white teeth framed with blood red lipstick. A glinting diamond embedded in her nose. Flaming red hair, held back with a crisp black bandanna.

“‘Atta boy. You went too fucking hard in the paint, Ray.” She laughed to herself.

_My legs-_

__

“Now you probably feel a little funny, but that’s fine.”

A long black fingernail, shaped like a talon, slowly ran down the side of his face, stopping at his chin.

_I can’t-_

“Ray. I’m asking you again.”

Her grin almost stretched from ear to ear.

“And you should really tell me, Ray, because if you don’t cooperate, I’ll need to bring you to our boss.”

_Boss_. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling - he was still in the bar, but it had been cleared out. Only the bartender stood, far at the end, polishing a glass with a disinterested expression on his face.

“And I don’t think you want to meet our boss. Right, Aziz?”

The bartender nodded. “You don’t want to meet our boss.”

Mel smiled and held Ray’s chin, forcing him to look dead her in the eyes.

 **  
** _“Now then, Ray. What’s Geoff up to these days?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much for publishing this once a week this semester.
> 
> is my outline done? absolutely not. but I do want to come back to this. my major - and hopefully future career - is a whole lot of writing, and I think it helps for me to have something like this as a side activity when I get stuck.
> 
> also, I tried to pitch this for my year-long feature project, but it wasn't too warmly received. ah well.

**Author's Note:**

> yet another contribution to the immortal fake AH crew universe!   
> more characters and tags and possible ships to be added, obviously.


End file.
